


The Language of Love

by Long_Live_the_Tutu



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, First Time, Hand Jobs, Human Again Sex, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-12 18:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10497153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Long_Live_the_Tutu/pseuds/Long_Live_the_Tutu
Summary: Some words simply don't belong in the bedroom. Others do.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I make no apologies for this. Please enjoy the smutty fun.

Lumiere was, it came as no surprise to discover, a talker. At this point, Cogsworth was beginning to seriously wonder if the sound of his own voice might be something of an additional aphrodisiac for the man, since he apparently loved nothing more than to fill the heavy, breathless silences between them with obscene commentaries and provocative fantasies, his tone going low and persuasive as he narrated virtually every action he took.

As if Cogsworth wasn't _aware_.

But as aggravating as it could be, he had to admit there was something reassuring about it too. Not that he'd ever let on if he could help it. This was all so new to him – and so thrillingly, terrifyingly _different_ between the two of them as well – but there was something comforting and grounding in having that familiar, maddening voice always there to murmur soft encouragements and talk him through it all. And talk him through it was exactly what Lumiere did, in his own way; whispering utter filth into his ear and lavishing him with praise he wasn't sure he really deserved whenever he managed to not completely bungle something. But still, it was a lifeline to hold onto and help him find his bearings when he needed them most, and was even rather...good.

As their clothes were tossed away and Lumiere's words purred against his skin, it was so much more than good.

Even so, Cogsworth had his hard limits and this was one of them. He'd made an honest effort to put aside all petty disagreements for this and simply enjoy the moment, he really had, but some words were just not appropriate for the bedroom – or any context, for that matter.

“Absolutely not, Lumiere!” he snipped, pulling away to collect himself. “I won't have it, and I insist you unhand me at once.”

“But Cogsworth –”

“Nononono. I am not, and will never be, your _petite fleur_.”

“Of course you are, don't wound me so,” Lumiere tutted. And he did sound rather crushed, but there was really no need to put his hand on his chest for dramatic emphasis. “And how can a lover help it if his affections must be spoken?”

“ **No** ,” Cogsworth repeated firmly, making a very heroic attempt to keep himself from blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl when he heard the word _'lover'_ on Lumiere's lips, and all it implied. This was serious business after all, establishing the ground rules and such, and this here was exactly the kind of flowery mulch he needed to put a stop to before it started.

He couldn't afford to get swept away. “I'm warning you right now. No silly pet names.”

“Hmph. The mademoiselles never complain so much.”

“I'm not one of your mademoiselles, thank you very much!” he squawked, shooting Lumiere a glare that cautioned him not to push his luck. “Now, this sort of romantic foolishness may be a success with them, but most certainly not with me, since you'll find my tastes to be very different –”

“Except in men.”

“Except iiiiin – look, just no sentimental nonsense.”

Lumiere grinned wickedly. “Oh, there's far more to this than just sentiment, _mon ami_.”

To demonstrate, he reached a slender hand between them, trailing down.

Lumiere's eyes never wavered from his, watching his expression carefully and with something like fondness as his hand closed around his almost-embarrassingly hard length one long, teasing finger at a time. Cogsworth couldn't hold back from gasping, twisting the sheets in his hands and biting down on his lip to keep from crying out for more as Lumiere strummed him and ran his thumb over the head leaking for him; his smile broadening and eyes glittering as Cogsworth's breathing deepened and staggered, and he really was on a mission to drive him out of his mind, there was no doubt now, and oh goodness, _he's done this before_...

Lumiere gave him a warm, candid look, taking care to work him slowly – too slowly – and letting him feel the burn until it was all he could feel, rolling his palm hard against him before grasping at him firmly and starting to pump in earnest. And just like that, Cogsworth felt all the fight go out of him as he sagged back onto the bed, shuddering and groaning helplessly with want, and trying his best to ignore the insufferably smug smile on his friend's face.

For a moment, Lumiere indulged him. “With your gracious permission, may we continue?”

“Well...yes,” he nodded between heavy pants, only what was meant to be bluster ended up coming out as little more than a squeak. “I suppose we may.”

Lumiere was never one to heed the rules and limits though, but by the time a litany of ridiculously overwrought endearments came back into play, laced with kisses, and breathed hot and urgent and shockingly desperate against his throat, Cogsworth was rather too far gone to mind very much.

 


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shamelessness continues, and thanks so much to everyone who left kudos for Part One! Enjoy!

He should have known Cogsworth would love to talk dirty. It was inevitable. As soon as he'd fought his way past all that stuffy reserve of his and tore down a wall or two, the man had a breaking point and once it was reached, decades of repression and frustration would come pouring out in the most fascinating ways – and Lumiere regarded it as his duty and pleasure to give the little push needed to help his poor, perpetually-agitated friend get there. And get there they did.

However, some pretences never seemed to grow old. It was an unspoken rule of theirs that through the foreplay and teasing preludes, the onus was always on Lumiere to take the reins and employ his most persuasive charms if he ever wanted things to move ahead (and it had to be said, it wasn't without a certain relish that he embraced his role) while Cogsworth busied himself still looking for plausible deniability and making a huge fussy show of reluctance and prudish annoyance, as if he'd been dragged to bed entirely against his will.

As soon as they got into the act proper though, his true feelings would reveal themselves every time – and as it turned out, Cogsworth was surprisingly sensitive, but also intriguingly particular when it came to what he wanted and how he wanted it, and he thrived on control almost as much as Lumiere thrived on making him lose it. He just had to be driven past reason before he could dare own up to it.

But what was his _raison d'etre_ if not to drive Cogsworth past all reason?

So Lumiere lived for the fun of bringing a little healthy sparring into the boudoir with them, and he loved to drag out that moment of truth, to delay it as long as he could stand it, to torment Cogsworth to the edge of his sanity and then watch him fight it out as sheer need went to war with modesty and pride. Then, he'd make him sing.

Just as he was doing now, with his paramour laid out like a feast before him, spread wide open to his touch and enduring his whim with admirable grace – that whim being Lumiere's insistence on making him come using only his fingers tonight, and nothing more. He chuckled and looked down at his partner with tender amusement as Cogsworth huffed and twitched and writhed in desperate impatience beneath him, his hands curling into the sheets enough to tear them, no doubt knowing if he made a move to relieve the pressure building in his cock then he'd find his hand swatted away or pinned to the bed. It wouldn't be kind to laugh, but the sight of him like this was an absolute treat – red-faced with exertion, eyes screwed shut, biting his lips against any delicious pleas and making a very noble effort not to let out a sound, no matter how well he knew that his moans were music to Lumiere's ears. No matter how well he knew that all holding back did was encourage him to play a little harder.

Which was exactly what he did, until Cogsworth was gasping and bucking and vainly trying to thrust back against his fingers. But it was so dear, the determination he had for following the rules precisely, even here and now and at his own expense, and when _he_ hadn't done anything but work around every rule from the first kiss onwards.

All in all, Lumiere couldn't help but find his struggles desperately enchanting. Watching Cogsworth carry on was always its own kind of delight, of course, but this was something else – something he could gladly watch all day.

A long groan came from beneath him, the first sign of willpower snapping. “Lumiere, this game of yours is – it's entirely unreasonable – why don't you hurry _up_ –”

“Hush, _mon amour_ ,” he soothed, trying and failing to keep the smile from his voice as his endearment turned Cogsworth a deeper shade of pink. “This will take as long as it takes.”

Cogsworth rewarded him with a hot glare. “I – I don't have all bloody day, Lumiere.”

“Ah, but these things cannot be rushed.”

“I think you'll find they _can_ with just a little effort, and I want – I want you to – oh!”

Ah, just a slight twist of his fingers and all that belligerence dissolved into needy gasps. _Sacre dieu_ , they should have done this years ago.

“ _Oui_? You want me to...what was it?”

“Lumiere, faster!”

Speeding up would be nice, but far too easy. So Lumiere gave him a knowing grin instead, playful and taunting, now that his fingers had found exactly where they most wanted to be. When he drew back to brush that small bundle of flesh again, and then again, he took care to keep his pace slow and deliberate until he was rolling softly across it with every move of his hand and his lover was shaking and arching magnificently.

It wasn't exactly what he'd call easy on himself though, to stay flushed and shuddering and painfully hard, and feeling it all the more when Cogsworth shifted to spread himself wider and take _more_. Not to mention the torture of having the other man's slick and aching prick right before him, practically calling for his lips, while being obliged to leave it neglected as he focused on the task at hand. Even for him, this was a cruel test and driving him to the very limit. But a good thing the reward was so worth it.

“I know what you're playing at,” Cogsworth hissed between ever-louder moans. “I know, and this time I'm not giving you the satisfaction –”

“Mmm, but you already satisfy me... _ma petite fleur_.” Lumiere winked, and that did the trick.

There was pure murder in Cogsworth's eyes, and he delighted in it as he brought himself in closer, holding his face just a breath away from his lips and adjusting his angle to slide home deeper and harder at last. And as Cogsworth cried out, trying so hard to glare at him resentfully and hide that soft smile he knew too well, Lumiere couldn't remember seeing anything more beautiful.

“Next time,” he promised, “you can take your revenge.”

Cogsworth scoffed unconvincingly. “So you're thinking there's going to be a next time?”

“Oh yes.” He touched a chaste kiss to his lover's mouth, chuckling warmly. “And I think you must be planning a little retribution for me later, _non_?”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Cogsworth breathed raggedly, smirking and eyes alight with energy as he tried to pull him down into another kiss. “Y-you're counting on it. I can see it on you. I'm on to your game now. I should have known you'd want it this way – _a-ah!_ – that's why you provoke me so much. You want me to punish you. Ohhh _yes_ , yes you do. Well, next time – _next time_ – you're going to be sorry, so sorry. You're going to get it – _Lumiere_ – and I'm going to give it to you, yes, I'll give it hard and fast and rough, the way you need it... You like to play games, Lumiere? You like to be toyed with? You want – _you want_ – me to hold you down and do what I please with you?”

“ _Oui_ ,” he whispered, nodding frantically and planting smiles and kisses along Cogsworth's throat, feeling his own control start to fray as his hand began gliding faster and faster, and it grew so much harder to keep from touching him anywhere else or letting himself be touched. “ _Oui_ , _oui_ , I'm yours, _bon travail mon capitaine_ , don't stop now...”

He growled softly against his lips. “You'll see, someone has to teach you a lesson – if that's what you enjoy, that's how you'll have it, next time, you'll have it all the time – you have no idea, you don't know how you'll beg for it, how...how _beautiful_ you'll look when you beg me...”

“And you, _mon coeur_?” Lumiere murmured, flames fanned to a shameless blaze. “What would you beg from me right now?”

“You know exactly what I want! I want you to fuck me already, damn you!”

Well, who was he to refuse such an exquisite invitation?

 


End file.
